Memories
by arabellaesque
Summary: One shot about Xan's memory of a first real kill.


I wrote this a little while ago for one of the attic challenges, but realised I'd never posted it up here. Since I've now come down with severe writer's block for my two ongoing stories, I thought I'd pop it up.

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Xan sat by Elrith as she stared at the tavern fire. She smiled to him and he grimaced in return, completely failing to show any sign of happiness.

"Smile Xan!" exclaimed the fighter cheerily. He could hear the tiredness in her voice despite her attempts to hide it. "We got through the fight, and you've impressed Minsc greatly with your swordsmanship."

Xan winced at her teasing tone. His small pouch was completely out of spell components, so when they'd been ambushed by several slavers and their pet orogs, he'd had no option but to quickly cast stoneskin and wade into the melee. He quickly learned that an enraged Minsc posed far more threat to an unskilled fighter than any slaver ever could, and he'd moved as far away from the berserker as was possible. When it was over, Xan had been standing over the corpse of the bandit he'd cut down with his moonblade, completely caught in his own thoughts.

"I have never told you about the first person I killed with the sword, have I?" he asked quietly.

Elrith gave him a curious look, but shook her head. "Shall you tell me now?" she asked.

"I could," he sighed. "I... I was reminded of it today, in that battle. It wasn't long after I became a Greycloak. We were sent on a mission to Scornubel. The reason has long become unimportant, but nevertheless we arrived, five of us, seeking information. We found out what we needed to know quite quickly, and were ready to leave, to move on to the next location we'd been given, hopelessly following a trail that was fading away faster than we could keep up.

"My companions had gone into a small shop. It seemed to specialise in exotic items, and there was a scent coming from it that made me feel faint. I opted to stay outside and they assured me they wouldn't be long. I amused myself by browsing the stalls that had been assembled nearby, and watched the never ending stream of caravans that seemed to pass both ways on the road.

"I wandered further away than I intended, caught up with the sights. I realised that I should head back and I spotted a lane that I was sure would take me back to the shop faster than retracing my steps. I hurried over to it, ducking between the dirty walls of the buildings that lay at either side. I was young and foolish; the fact that most of the alley was cloaked in a shadow that wasn't penetrated by the bright sun didn't even cross my mind.

"I was perhaps halfway down it when someone moved out in front of me. I could see something glinting before them, and I immediately knew it was a sword, or similar weapon. My heart was racing and I instinctively went to cast a defensive spell. Before I could even murmur the first few words, I'd had some powder thrown at me, and my voice disappeared. I was left helpless and alone in a town I was not familiar with.

"A voice came from the shadows. It was low and I had trouble even hearing it, but it demanded my money, my sword and anything else of value I had on me. I tried to reply, but of course I had been rendered mute. My lack of response - or compliance, more likely - caused them to become agitated.

"I could sense the blade lunging towards me, and I stumbled as I moved to the side. Thankfully, they were as hopeless with their weapon as I knew I would be with mine. But I had no choice, and so I drew my moonblade, desperately trying to find my voice. The figure was swathed in a robe that covered their face, and they turned back to me as I was trying to regain my balance. It was only due to sheer luck that I successfully parried their blow."

"Did you not receive training when you were given the moonblade?" asked Elrith curiously.

Xan snorted. "I had little interest in combat. Though I listened to people trying to instruct me on the correct way to swing it around, I can honestly say that it was something that did not come naturally to me." He smiled ruefully.

"What happened after you parried?"

"We exchanged a few swings and lunges. It would probably have appeared quite pathetic to anyone watching; we were both as hesitant as the other, and neither of us possessed much in the way of strength. I thought it was a boy, chancing his luck with a foreigner to his town, so initially I was cautious about being too harsh. Most of my efforts were focussed on trying to get past, so I could run back to one of the streets, hopefully deterring it from pursuing me."

"He blocked your way?" Elrith was listening to his tale intently, caught up in his memory.

"They would be before me no matter what direction I tried to run. Their attacks came faster as they grew frustrated. At one point their blade caught my arm, ripping open my flesh. I thought I would faint from the pain."

"But you didn't!" said Elrith brightly. Xan sighed at her unnecessary cheerfulness.

"No, I did not. Instead I stabbed my sword forward, thinking I would manage to knock the sword from my assailant's hand. Instead, the figure moved slightly; suddenly appearing before me, and I felt the moonblade as it plunged into unprotected flesh. My attacker staggered backwards, dragging me along as I clung to the hilt of my sword. I eventually pulled it free, watching as they pulled their robes away from their body, trying to look down at the gaping wound in their abdomen. There was blood seeping out, dripping to the floor as they fell to their knees. Then they looked up to me, and for the first time I saw their face, uncovered and in the full light of the sun."

Elrith sat in silence, watching Xan as he stared into the distance, a pained look on his face. It was a long time before he spoke again.

"It was a girl, Elrith. A little human beggar girl, probably not much older than the children we freed when we first arrived in this city. Her eyes were full of shock and sorrow as she looked at me. I tried to talk to her, I wanted to apologise - as if that would make her feel any better as she died! But of course, I still could not speak. I watched as she crumpled to the ground, a red pool forming around her body, and slowly the noises from the surrounding streets began to filter back into my hearing. I turned and ran towards the shop without looking back.

"My companions were outside, and they were confused with my affliction and panic. One of them cast a vocalise spell upon me, freeing my tongue but I couldn't tell them what had happened. I tried to, but I couldn't. I muttered something about having been affected by one of the stranger wares on offer in the market, and they just looked at me oddly, then moved off, on with our travels. I never returned to that town."

"Oh Xan..."

"Today, when I looked down at the slaver I'd killed, I remembered that little girl. She'd be an old woman by now. She may have had a family of her own, grandchildren as old as she was when I murdered her."

"You didn't murder her," said Elrith gently. "You were defending yourself."

"The finer points fail to lessen the larger picture," replied Xan dourly as he stood up. "Long shall I remember the look on her face as she fell. Every time I am forced to unsheathe the moonblade I remember the day clearly. I try to make sure I have enough components and spells memorised to last for every incident, for fear of remembering. But sometimes it's not enough, and I am forced to recall what happened; to compare anyone I strike down with the peasant girl who died alone, bleeding to death in that dark alley all those years ago."

"Xan..." began Elrith, but he shook his head, waving his hand as he walked away in silence. She watched as he climbed the stairs slowly towards his room, his shoulders slumped, and his head bent down as his gaze was fixed to the floor. She didn't follow him, because she knew he wanted to be alone.

As alone as the girl who had died.


End file.
